CHAPTER 45: LUCKY

When I reached Rebecca, I found her practicing with a sword, an odd sight indeed.

Last night at Annabel’s, she’d mentioned it: ever since the vampire attack, Rebecca had been training not just in magic, but physically as well.

For a sorceress, especially one with Rebecca’s immense potential, the time devoted to training was expected to focus solely on honing her magical prowess. As I watched her swing the sword, my breath caught for a moment.

Her eyes narrowed with sharp focus, each strike delivered with the resolve of facing an actual enemy. The tremor in her arms, the way the hilt chafed her palms. It was clear this was no mere exercise for her, but a vow of war.

Annabel’s words echoed in my mind. "Rebecca is training her body with steel now, not just magic."

In that instant, I realized this scene held far more than mere strangeness. Rebecca was battling her own inner fear, her own vulnerability.

That night, she couldn’t protect me... The helplessness I’d seen in her eyes when the vampire’s shadow fell upon us was still etched in my memory. Perhaps for her, the sword had become a weapon against the memory of that night.

And now, unbeknownst to me, she was trying to shatter the chains of that shame.

She paused for a moment, sweat beading on her forehead and trickling down her chin, and our eyes met. She didn’t lower her sword, nor did she avert her gaze. In those blue eyes, I saw not just determination, but the reflection of emotions that had secretly swelled since that passionate, shy kiss we’d shared.

Yet between us lingered an unspoken boundary.

We had kissed, yes... but neither of us had dared to utter the word "us."

Faced with the resolve in Rebecca’s eyes, instead of speaking, I approached silently. Even the rustle of the grass seemed loud enough to disrupt the rhythm of her sword. So, I simply stopped and watched her.

After a while, when Rebecca lowered her sword to catch her breath, I drew my own. Her gaze shifted to me then, a mix of surprise and questioning.

But without a word, I positioned myself opposite her.

I made the first move. A light, controlled strike. Rebecca raised her sword reflexively, though her motion was sluggish. Still, a spark ignited in her eyes.

In silent agreement, I had joined her training.

For a time, the clash of steel echoed across the meadow. My every strike was instructive, hers fierce. When Rebecca erred, she didn’t retreat; she attacked even harder. As our breaths quickened and sweat gleamed on her face, it was as if she channeled all her pent-up rage into the blade.

I parried each blow, sometimes gently pushing back, sometimes leaving openings for her. I wanted her to learn from me, but without breaking her spirit.

For I knew: Rebecca secretly thrived on this struggle.

Finally, in one maneuver with my sword, she lost her balance and clung to me to avoid falling. In that instant when our hands met, the shadow of that brief kiss resurfaced between us.

Rebecca, breathless, fixed her eyes on mine.

Her lips parted as if a torrent of words were knotted in her throat. Her fingers gripped my wrist tightly. Not just to steady herself, but as if unwilling to let go...

Rebecca’s breath brushed my face; warm, hurried, timid. Those gray whirlpools in her eyes drew me in. In that gaze lay not only ambition, but a fear buried deep.

My hands instinctively slid to her shoulders. I steadied her, but more than that, I wanted her to feel my presence, to know she wasn’t alone.

"Rebecca..." I said, my voice nearly a whisper. "Don’t push yourself so hard."

She let her sword drop to the ground with a dull thud on the grass, but her eyes remained locked on mine. Her lips trembled, and finally, she spoke:

"I... I was afraid of losing you that night. And still... I’m afraid."

Her words pierced my chest like a dagger. I closed my eyes, drew a deep breath, then drew closer. The distance between us was now nothing but hesitation.

I wanted to embrace her, but instead, I brought my hands to her face. My fingers traced her cheeks, wiping away the sweat as I lost myself in the depths of those blue eyes. Rebecca’s breathing was still rapid, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest.

"Don’t be afraid," I whispered, the tremor in my voice betraying my own fears. "I’m here. By your side. And I have no intention of leaving. You’ll have to put up with me a little longer."

Rebecca’s lips curved slightly in response. A smile, or perhaps a bittersweet one; I couldn’t quite tell. Her blue eyes softened for a moment, the storm within seeming to subside. Her fingers slowly released my wrist, but she immediately stepped back, reestablishing that distance. As if afraid to surrender her emotions.

"Put up with you?" she murmured, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. Her voice was still breathless, but now it rang with defiance rather than exhaustion. "Don’t talk as if you’re a burden to me."

"Okay, okay. Well then, will you show me this new ability of yours? I hear your first talent is some kind of explosive magic."

Rebecca’s eyes locked onto mine with a challenging gleam.

"Heart of the Night..." she said, her voice almost a whisper, yet carrying an echo reminiscent of a dark melody. "That’s my technique. But the ability born from it remains a secret even to me. Because every time I use it, I discover something new."

As she finished speaking, her fingers drifted to the sword’s hilt, but she didn’t lift it from the ground. Instead, she extended her hand into the air. From her palm rose a shadowy, blackish aura intertwined with darkness, pulsing rhythmically like a deep heartbeat. With each throb, a purple light flashed at the shadow’s core before sinking back into obscurity.

I stepped back instinctively. My intuition told me this was no ordinary spell. There was a strange harmony between the magic, the mana, and the rhythm of her heart. Rebecca’s breathing grew heavier, as if projecting her pulse outward.

As the aura in Rebecca’s palm expanded, the grass rippled as though stirred by an invisible wind. I held my breath.The purple light pulsed like a heartbeat. Each throb sent pressure echoing from the earth into my chest. Rebecca closed her eyes, her lips parting as words spilled forth like a prayer:

"Heart of the Night: Eternal Explosion."

As Rebecca’s words hung in the air, the sky darkened as if bearing witness to her spell. The black-purple aura rising from her palm suddenly accelerated, mimicking a racing heart. Each pulse struck the ground like an unseen blow. Grass flattened, earth cracked, the air grew heavy.

Rebecca’s eyes remained shut, her face etched with indescribable concentration. That stubborn smile still lingered on her lips. And then, the explosion came.

The aura burst from her palm, expanding into a purple-black wave radiating from the center. But this was no ordinary magical blast. Despite sensing how little mana she’d expended, the unleashed power felt like the last cry of an human.

And then, the explosion hit.

My ears rang, pressure built in my chest. Grass, stones, even the chill in the air warped under the echo of the blast. At the heart of the purple light’s intensity, the silhouette of a dark heart materialized. For a fleeting moment, the sky itself seemed drained of light, everything existing and vanishing to the rhythm of Rebecca’s heartbeat.

Then... silence.

As the dust cloud settled over the meadow, Rebecca stood firm. Her palm lowered slowly, her breathing erratic, but her eyes shining. A few beads of sweat trailed down her cheek, yet her expression was one of pride.

She caught my gaze. The corners of her lips curled into a defiant smile.

"Just a little mana," she said in a hushed voice, flexing her fingers in the air, "but the impact is huge, isn’t it? I used all of my remaining Mana that night to create an explosion that killed the vampire."

I exhaled, releasing the breath I’d unconsciously held during that long moment. Admiration mingled with worry stirred within me. For I knew: each time Rebecca wielded this power, she pushed her limits. But in doing so, she shattered her own chains.

I approached. The grass still lay flattened, a reminder of the blast’s force. I stopped before her, meeting her eyes.

"I think by giving you that Technique Acquisition Item, I’ve created a monster."

Rebecca’s defiant smile hung in the air, as captivating as the lingering purple-black waves. The gleam in her eyes was like the last light of a star devouring the night; mesmerizing, yet dangerously fragile.

"A monster?" she said, her tone laced with mockery, but her eyes holding a deeper inquiry. She picked up her sword from the ground, sheathing it slowly. "Then you’re lucky I’m on your side."

"No, I’m lucky because I’m about to kiss the lips of a beautiful, sexy, and talented woman."